Outside
by PheonixFeather10
Summary: A series of drabbles on Rapunzel's childhood in the tower.
1. Chapter 1

_Hi guys! I hope you enjoy these little drabbles on Tangled. PLEASE review and tell me what you think._

 _Disclaimer: Tangled does not belong to me._

Rapunzel was a little girl. Her mother said that she was too little to go Outside. Outside was a big place. Rapunzel knew all this, but that did not stop her wishing that she could leave her tower. Now that she was a little older, she had been thinking about the Outside a lot lately.

On her sixth birthday, her mother had given her a new hairbrush; it had soft bristles and a silver backing. She loved it. It felt so soft on her hair.

That evening, Rapunzel's mother slowly brushed her hair with her new brush in front of the fire. As she sang the special song, Rapunzel thought about Outside again. She wondered whether, because it was her birthday, she could go Outside, just maybe.

It wouldn't hurt to ask why she couldn't.

As soon as the song was finished, Rapunzel asked her mother, "Why can't I go outside?"

"The outside world is a dangerous place, full of horrible, selfish people. You must stay here, where you're safe. Do you understand, my flower?" said her mother firmly, while pulling the brush through her long hair.

"Yes mummy," said Rapunzel. And she did now. If there were bad people, there was no reason to go Outside.

But that evening, after Rapunzel was put to sleep, she waited until her mother was in bed. As soon as downstairs was quiet, she slowly crept down the stairs, her hair gliding down after her. She glanced into her mother's room, then quickly ran to the big window. There they were, just like they were every year on her Birthday! The Lights swept up into the sky. Shining out into the night, rising further up, up, up...

She wondered, as she always did, how they were made. They were so beautiful. Maybe one year, when she was older, and more... better at running away from dangerous people... her mother could – maybe – take her to see the Floating Lights up close. To see where they were coming from.

But for now it was perfectly wonderful to watch them from the window. To watch the beautiful Lights floating away up into the sky... it was perfectly wonderful. Rapunzel sunk down, resting her head on her arms, gazing up into the beautiful sky.


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm back! Already! I was planning to wait a week but I was so excited to upload this chapter that I just couldn't wait. And to thewanderlustmarauder, thank you so much for reviewing! It means a lot!_

 _I hope you guys enjoy the new chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! Let me know in the comments :)_

 _Disclaimer: Tangled does not belong to me._

Recently, Rapunzel was always bored. She did not know what to do with her day; the long, tiring day when her mother was out, and would not be back before nightfall. She had done her two puzzles so many times, that she could do them with her eyes closed. She could not sew the embroidered curtains that she was making all day. The first time she had asked her mother for something new to do, her mother had looked stern and suggested that she go and brush her hair.

Rapunzel had not complained of her boredom anymore after that.

But she still did not know what to do.

On Rapunzel's ninth Birthday, she got up earlier than usual, just like she had for every birthday that she had ever had. She went downstairs to the kitchen and found her mother, who had just made breakfast. Only after they had eaten and she had washed up, could she open her present.

It was a set of three books. Her mother told her that one was about cooking, one about geology, and the other was about botany. She did not know what geology or botany were, but she was excited to learn about cooking. She opened them up, and saw a lot of scribbles. Her mother explained that those were words, and tomorrow she would start learning to read.

Rapunzel had not seen books very often. Her mother rarely looked at them, and when she did, it was never for very long. Rapunzel was excited to find out that she was now old enough to begin to learn to read books for herself.

The next day, after Rapunzel had done all of the housework, she and her mother sat down at the table, with the three books spread out in front of them. Her mother opened up a page in the book about cooking. She explained that there were lots of different types of little scribbles, called letters, and each one made a different sound. With a pencil, she wrote in the back of the book all of the letters that there were. Then she gave them to Rapunzel to memorise.

She said that Rapunzel must have them done by the end of the day. Then she left the tower, going down to her business in the Outside.

Rapunzel sat down and memorised all of the little letters that her mother had said she must learn. After ten minutes had passed, she knew them, and went upstairs to play with her Little Doll.

She amused herself with games for the rest of the day. But whatever she did, she went through the little letters in her head. She soon knew them so well that she could say them backwards. She was very proud of this, and chanted all of the letters out loud to her doll.

When her mother came back that evening, Rapunzel was very excited to show her what she had learned. She could hardly wait until they had eaten their dinner, and she had hurried through the washing up. Then she had sat her mother down in her special chair in front of the fire, and sang her special song. She sang it as fast as she could, and her mother only just had time to brush her hair and Grow Young. "Rapunzel!" she said angrily, when Rapunzel had finished.

"Are you ready to listen to my letters now, mother?" asked Rapunzel excitedly.

Her mother sighed, then adjusted her seat, and waited for Rapunzel to begin. Rapunzel stood still in front of the blazing flames, and thought about her day. She thought about the letters that she had learned, and had practiced all day. But try as she might, she could not think of what the letters were. She gulped, and her mother looked expectantly at her. Then she stood up. "You can't remember, Rapunzel. You will never remember anything. Oh darling, how can you learn to read if you can't even remember the alphabet? A, b, c, easy darling." She laughed and left her chair.

Rapunzel remembered it now. "Oh, it's a, b, c, d, e..."

But her mother had left the room.

The next day, after her mother had left the for the Outside, Rapunzel was determined to keep teaching herself to read. She got out the book about cooking, and sat on her mother's chair, looking at the first page. She looked at the first letter. It was a c. She remembered the sound that it made, and said it softly under her breath. Then she looked at the next letter, and figured out what it sounded like. In this way, she was able to work out the entire first sentence, "Cooking can be fun, if done properly." But that was enough for one day. She lay back in the chair, feeling very proud of herself.

Over the next two weeks, Rapunzel had progressed so far as to be able to read the entire first recipe to herself. She felt that it was time to tell her mother that she had learned to read.

So that evening, after dinner was done and tidied, and Rapunzel had sung her Special Song, she showed her mother the first recipe of the book, and how she had learned to read it. "I taught myself," she finished proudly.

"Oh, dear, I am so glad. Now maybe the dinner will taste nice!" said her mother, laughing at Rapunzel's face. "Oh, darling, I'm just teasing. But it is a pity there isn't a book on cleaning properly!" She laughed and left the room.

Rapunzel put her books away on the shelf, and slowly climbed the stairs. For some reason she didn't feel quite satisfied. It was as if she had expected a Star, and been handed the Moon. Somehow, it wasn't quite the same.

But at least, now she could read.


	3. Chapter 3

_Hey guys! I'm back with chapter three, where Rapunzel learns to paint. Many many thanks to thewanderlustmarauder and disneylover115 for reviewing my story – you guys made my day :)_

 _Disclaimer: Tangled does not belong to me._

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When Rapunzel had turned 7, her mother had given her some special material in pretty colours. She was to use it to make herself a doll, and some doll's clothes. Rapunzel worked very hard on her doll, and when it was finished she played with it every day. It was her greatest companion. She never gave it a name; in her head she called it her Little Doll.

When Rapunzel was 10, her mother left the tower. She did not live with Rapunzel any more, but she visited every day without fail. It was really not that different from before. Rapunzel soon grew used to the quiet nights and slow, dreary days where she must entertain herself, with nothing but her three books, her two puzzles, her chess set, and her Little Doll.

One day, a few weeks until Rapunzel's eleventh birthday, she was playing with Little Doll by the big window. It was a wet, rainy day, and the storm came down like a torrent. She was not really meant to go near the window, especially when it was wet. But she always forgot.

She sat just out of reach of the wet drops, though a few found their way to her face, blown there by the wind. She and Little Doll quietly played together, while watching the rain form droplets on the cold windowsill.

Rapunzel put Little Doll down, and gazed at the rain. She leaned forward, and tried to catch some drops with her tongue. In doing so, her knee pushed out further and further, and with one little push, Little Doll hurtled down, down, down towards the ground.

Rapunzel gasped. Little Doll was Outside.

She peered through the rain, but it was so thick that she could not see the ground. Then she remembered herself, and quickly sat back in case she fell down too, down to that dangerous Outside. She would ask her mother to get it for her when she came back that afternoon. There was nothing else to be done.

That afternoon, Rapunzel kept a watch out for her mother. It had stopped raining, but the sky was still overcast. The ground was so muddy that Rapunzel could not see Little Doll at all. There was a little stream of water running from the top of the valley down to the big pond, which was rapidly growing. Rapunzel watched, and wondered where Little Doll could be. She might have been swept along by the rain, and ended up in the bottom of the pond. Rapunzel tried not to think about how cold and wet Little Doll was now.

Finally her mother came striding out of the cave that led into the valley. Rapunzel waved frantically, meaning for her mother to hurry. When her mother heard her calls, she picked up her skirts and ran swiftly towards the tower. "Are you fine? What happened?" she called up worriedly.

Rapunzel had not meant for her mother to get so worried. "Mother, I dropped my doll. Could you please find her for me?" she called down, slightly nervously.

Her mother frowned. Nevertheless, she poked her booted foot around in the mud. Watching anxiously from the tower, Rapunzel was certain that she saw something...

But a moment later, her mother shouted up, in an annoyed tone, "Rapunzel, let your hair down. If you were so careless as to drop your doll, then you won't miss her too much. Now hurry up darling, it's wet down here."

Rapunzel was close to tears, but she slowly dropped her golden hair down the tower to the ground, pulling it up once her mother was holding on tight. As soon as her mother climbed through the window, she ran upstairs as fast as she could. She could not bear to look at her mother just then.

Over the next few weeks, Rapunzel mourned the loss of Little Doll. She grew depressed, or as depressed as it was possible for her to be. However, she soon cheered up, with the coming of a her eleventh birthday, and the annual Floating Lights.

That year, her mother brought her some paint, made out of beautiful white shells. Rapunzel was ecstatic. She soon had used up all of the paper in the tower, practicing the different brush strokes, and different combinations of colours. Looking around the tower for more paper, she noticed that the wooden railing on the staircase looked quite bare. Taking out her paint, she painted a golden pattern all down the rail. She was so interested in her work that she did not notice the time, and dinner was not ready when her mother arrived for the evening.

Her mother was a tad annoyed. "Why is dinner not ready, darling? You have all day to make dinner, and it's still not enough time for you?"

"I'm sorry mother, but I got caught up," explained Rapunzel. "I can show you what I did, if you like."

"Unless it was copying out the entire cookbook, I can't imagine what you did," laughed her mother, following Rapunzel to the stairs.

Rapunzel showed her mother her pattern, explaining how she had done it. Her mother interrupted her. "Yes but darling, this is not food!"

"Yes but mother..." began Rapunzel.

"No buts," said her mother sternly. "From now on, if dinner is not ready by the time I get here, I will have to take your paints away." She laughed at Rapunzel's downcast face. "Oh, darling, you are so adorable when you are sad!"

"Sorry mother," said Rapunzel quietly.

Her mother kissed her on the top of her head, then pulled her onto her stool in front of the fire. "Darling, I'm feeling a little tired. Will you sing for me?"

"Of course mother!" beamed Rapunzel, glad to make up for her tardiness. She sweetly sang the Special Song as her mother brushed her hair with the silver brush, but her mind was elsewhere, thinking of all the beautiful paintings that she could now make. A whole new world was open to her. She couldn't wait to really begin.

But she would make sure that dinner was always ready from now on.


	4. Chapter 4

_Here is chapter four, where Rapunzel meets Pascal! Thankyou very much to nickibecket1997 for favouriting my story, and Martyn, thanks for the suggestion!_

 _Disclaimer: I do not own Tangled._

For Rapunzel's twelfth birthday, her mother got her some more paints, and a set of oil pastels. Rapunzel was delighted. She spent the next few weeks experimenting with the pastels, and trying out new drawing ideas. She was always full of ideas. Whenever she needed inspiration, she sat on her windowsill and looked out into her valley.

One quiet afternoon, as she looked down into her valley, she heard a little scuttling. It sounded like it was coming from the pot plant that sat on the windowsill. Carefully, she pulled apart the leaves. She couldn't see where the noise was coming from, until there was a tiny movement. There, nestled in the leaves, was a little chameleon. It was glaring at Rapunzel very hard – if it was possible for chameleons to glare. Her botany book would have disputed that fact, but there it was, a little chameleon, glaring at her.

Rapunzel slowly reached out her hand. The chameleon sniffed it cautiously, before suddenly jumping onto Rapunzel's hand.

Rapunzel nearly dropped the creature in surprise, but stopped herself just in time. Carefully stepping off the windowsill, she carried the little creature inside, being careful not to jolt it. She sat down slowly at the table, and rested her hand on the table. The little chameleon climbed off, and looked about it. Then it turned to Rapunzel, and looked into her eyes, holding perfect eye contact. It was a beautiful moment. Rapunzel was just beginning to wonder if the little creature would ever turn away, when the chameleon gave a nod of satisfaction, and made a flying leap off the table.

Rapunzel gasped and tried to find it, but it was already walking contentedly about the room, as if surveying it's territory. She quickly swept it up into her skirt, and carried it upstairs, into her room.

She put it on her bed, and it amused itself by trying to jump, and climb over the little ridges of her blanket. Rapunzel found an old box, and put an old pillowcase in the bottom, with a few rags from her scrap bag. Then she went back to her bed – but the chameleon was already gone.

Search revealed it under her bed, where it was trying to catch a small piece of fluff. She swept up the lizard and put it in the box, then carried it downstairs.

Sitting in her mother's chair, with the box on her lap, she looked at it again, and it looked at her. "Are you a boy or a girl?" she found herself asking out loud.

To her surprise, the creature nodded, as if inviting her to ask again.

"Are you a girl?" she found herself asking.

The little chameleon shook it's head violently.

"Are you a boy?" she asked.

The chameleon nodded frantically.

"What's your name?" she said. "Is it Charlie, or John?"*

The chameleon shook his head in disgust.

"I'm sorry, but those are the only boy names I know," said Rapunzel apologetically. "They do have different names to girls, right?"

The little chameleon rolled his eyes, then jumped out of his box with one huge leap. "Hey!" cried Rapunzel. The creature ignored her, and began searching the room. He leaped up onto the table, but couldn't quite make it. Rapunzel gave him a little push. He then scurried around among her art things, looking for a word. Rapunzel ducked into the kitchen to give the dinner a stir, but ran back when she heard a massive squeaking coming from the table. The little chameleon was pointing violently with his tale at her oil pastels. "Your name's Pastel!" Rapunzel cried.

The chameleon shook his head violently, then waved his front foot in a circular motion, inviting her to keep guessing.

"Pastal? Pasmal? Pascal?" asked Rapunzel. The chameleon finally nodded his head, and started turning around in a circle.

"Pascal! Your name's Pascal!" laughed Rapunzel, clapping her hands. Pascal turned around and around in his little victory dance.

Over the next few weeks, Pascal became a big part of Rapunzel's life. He did not leave the tower, but stayed with her. She could hardly remember a time when she had not known this strange little chameleon.

He had to stay hidden when her mother was around, for she hated all animals, especially small ones. Pascal was not too fond of Rapunzel's mother, either.

Pascal was always suggesting that they go and play Outside. Even after Rapunzel had explained many times that Outside was a dangerous place, and that her mother said that she was never going Outside, Pascal would still keep subtly suggesting that Outside was more exciting than Inside.

Sometimes, Rapunzel even caught herself wondering what the Outside was really like.

Especially around her Birthday.

 _*these are the authors of her Botany and Geology books :)_

 _Stay tuned for the last instalment! (unless I come up with another idea down the track and decide to stick it in...)_


	5. Chapter 2 5

_Hey guys! So this was meant to be the last chapter, but I changed my mind, because I came up with the idea for this one. So there is still one more chapter to go after this! In this chapter, Rapunzel learns how to cook, and especially how to cook hazlenut soup. Just so you know, this chapter is set just after chapter two (the one where she learned to read). So she is nine at this point.  
_ ** _disneylover115:_** _Thank you so much for your lovely review! I really love Pascal - he is so adorable :) Thanks again!  
 **Martyn:** Thank you for your comments. I have already written the whole thing, so I don't really want to change the 'plot'. But it is a good idea!_ _  
_

 _Disclaimer: Tangled does not belong to me._

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Chapter 2.5

One day, soon after Rapunzel had learned to read, her mother said that it was high time she learned to cook. Previously, her mother had cooked all the meals, though Rapunzel had always cleared up and washed the dishes. Rapunzel was delighted that her mother thought that she was ready to cook.

Her mother said that she could look through the recipe book, and pick a recipe that she wanted to cook. Rapunzel flicked through the pages, looking at all of the pictures. At last she decided on a delicious looking hazlenut soup. The picture in the book showed a steaming bowel full of soup, with some chopped herbs sitting in the middle. To Rapunzel it looked delicious, and totally exotic. She couldn't wait to get started.

Her mother, however, was a little skeptical. She was concerned that they did not have the ingredients, and that the recipe itself was too hard for Rapunzel.

Rapunzel was very upset, to say the least. She had looked forward to learning how to cook her whole life, and now she couldn't even cook what she wanted to! Her mother comforted her by promising that they would cook the soup later, when Rapunzel was a little older, and more experienced. She said they would start by learning to bake bread.

That afternoon after lunch, Rapunzel's mother took some flour and salt out of the pantry, and set it on the table. Then she mixed a quantity of each together, with some water, and kneaded it on the bench. Rapunzel watched her, completely enthralled.

Rapunzel's mother then rolled out the dough into strips, and set it in the oven to cook. While they waited, Rapunzel cleared up, and wiped the bench, while her mother flipped through the recipe book.

At last her mother said that the bread was ready. She carefully took it out of the oven, and set it to cool on the table. It smelled so good; just like fresh bread should smell. They ate it that evening with a leek soup that her mother had whipped up, and then had the last slivers with butter and jam for dessert. Rapunzel's mother said that tomorrow, Rapunzel would cook the bread herself.

The next afternoon, Rapunzel's mother changed her mind, and said that she had to go Outside. Seeing as she would not be there, Rapunzel was not allowed to cook. They would have to wait for the next day.

Rapunzel waved her mother goodbye, then sat on her special stool, and waited. She was bored. Little Doll was having her nap, so she couldn't play with her. And she didn't feel like reading a book, or doing a puzzle. In fact, all she wanted to do was cook.

And then a little thought began to play around in Rapunzel's head. What if she cooked anyway, even though her mother was not there? She had watched how to do it; it couldn't be that hard. And then she imagined how nice it would be for her mother to come home and smell freshly baked bread. Imagine how proud she would be of Rapunzel.

Rapunzel determined to listen to the little voice, and entered the kitchen. It was time to make bread.

Rapunzel opened up her cook book to the bread page. She found the right instructions, and read it through carefully. Then she read it through twice more. She had to make sure that she got it right.

Rapunzel got the big mixing bowl and a spoon out of the cupboard. Then she painstakingly measured out the right amount of flour and water into the bowl, along with a pinch of salt. Then she spread some flour out onto the bench, just as her mother had done, and picked up the dough, plonking it onto the bench. Then she gulped, and put her hands into the gooey, sticky mixture. It felt awful; all floury, and it stuck to her fingers. However, thinking of how proud her mother would be when she came into the kitchen kept her at it. She started to knead the dough, pushing and pulling the mixture, trying to imitate what her mother had done the day before, and all the other countless times when she had absentmindedly watched her mother bake bread.

At last, the dough began to take shape. Rapunzel added a little more flour, and gave it one last quick knead, before grabbing the rolling pin and proceeding to roll out the dough on the flour covered bench. Once it was flat enough, she carefully peeled the dough off the bench, and laid it on a tray. Then she carefully slid it into the oven.

Rapunzel took a deep sigh of relief, before rushing to the sink and peeling all the dough off her hands. Scrubbing them under the water made her feel like she was scrubbing off all of her worries. She had a fleeting worry that maybe her mother wouldn't be proud... but she quickly pushed it behind her, and set about washing the big bowl and the spoon.

A little later, Rapunzel sat in front of the oven, staring intently at the slowly baking bread. She made the process even longer by continually opening the door to peek inside.

At last, the bread looked ready. Rapunzel slid on the mitts, and slowly opened the oven door. Carefully pulling out the tray, she set it on top of the stove and breathed in the delicious smell. The bread itself was steaming hot, and golden brown. It looked nearly as good as the bread that she had made with her mother the day before. But somehow, making it herself was much more satisfying.

Suddenly, there came the call. "Rapunzel, let down your hair!"

Rapunzel quickly dumped the mitts on the bench, and ran to the big window. There was her mother, already climbing the ladder that leaned on half of the length of the tower. Rapunzel's golden hair would help her up the rest of the way.

Rapunzel hurriedly swung her hair over the hook, and let the whole length of it swing down to her mother. With Rapunzel's pulling, and with help from her mother's climbing skills, Rapunzel's mother finally made it to the windowsill.

"How are you, my sweet flower?" laughed Rapunzel's mother, pinching Rapunzel's cheek.

"Fine, mother," said Rapunzel, finding it hard to talk with one cheek being pulled off her face. "But mother, I have such a surprise for you!"

"A surprise! Why Rapunzel, I... but what do I smell?" Rapunzel's mother sniffed the air.

Rapunzel spoke all in a rush. "Oh mother, it's bread, I baked it myself. Doesn't it smell simply divine? It's just the right colour too. I am so proud that I made it all by myself, are you proud mother? Of course I used the recipe, but am sure I'll soon learn to do it without..."

"Sweetie, do you remember what I told you this morning, about not baking when I am not at home?" interrupted her mother, looking awfully stern.

Rapunzel hung her head, and nodded.

"And do you know why I told you that?"

Rapunzel shook her head rapidly.

"Because of the oven, Rapunzel," said her mother very sternly. "Ovens are dangerous. You can't just cook without my guiding hand. You need someone there to watch you, to make sure that you don't burn the Tower down. What would happen if you burnt the Tower down? The flames would show for miles around, and every man in the country would see them, and come looking for you and your hair. Do you want that to happen, Rapunzel?"

Rapunzel shook her head again, though she did not see how a small fire, which was always burning, could possibly burn down a solid rock tower. However, she supposed that her mother knew best.

Rapunzel's mother smiled. "Good girl, Rapunzel," she said. "I know you won't do it again. We'll start our cooking lessons again tomorrow."

Rapunzel nodded, and tried to look cheerful. But she found it harder when that night at dinner, her mother said that she had forgotten the salt in her bread. Of course Rapunzel had put it in. At least now she knew to put more in next time. But it did hurt her feelings when her mother refused to eat any more.

For the next few months, Rapunzel was taught how to cook. When at last her mother thought that she was ready to try and cook hazlenut soup, Rapunzel was so tired of the whole idea that she was nearly ready to give up. While she enjoyed eating the food itself, cooking was so tiresome that it almost wasn't worth the effort. But at least it gave her something to do.

Rapunzel was excited when her mother brought hazlenuts and parsnips from the Outside, so they could make the hazlenut soup. And she was quite thrilled when the soup had a thick texture, just like her cook book said it should have. But when it was put on the table, with its garnish of parsley, and its side of bread, she thought to herself that it really had not lived up to her expectations. When they tried it, her mother found it delicious. She even said that it was her new favourite meal, and they should have it on all special occasions.

Rapunzel, however, did not enjoy it at all, though she did not say that to her mother. She could not imagine how she had ever thought that she would possibly like it. It tasted like mushed up mushrooms, and she disliked mushrooms. Rapunzel resolved to say nothing about it to her mother, but merely to hold it in, and to eat what she was served. Though she would make sure that it was a very, very rare occasion when they had this particular dish for dinner.

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 _I have always liked to think that Rapunzel hates hazlenut soup :) Please review!_


	6. Chapter 6

_Here it is, the last chapter of this story! (unless I come up with another idea down the track, and decide to stick it in) I have really enjoyed the experience of writing this, and have about a million other ideas floating around in my head, so stay tuned for more!  
_ ** _Tiny Teddy Bear:_** _Thank you so much for your lovely reviews! They made me so happy :) I read them every now and then and giggle and beam with happiness.  
 **WhispersWithWolves:** Thank you for favouriting my story! I'm glad you liked it :)  
_

 _Disclaimer: Tangled does not belong to me._

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Rapunzel was now sixteen, nearly seventeen.

She had long since found out that she loved doing things. Whenever her hands were empty, or she sat still for too long, she began to feel depressed.

So Rapunzel always tried to fill her long days with activities.

Every morning after breakfast, she would sweep the entire tower thoroughly, always making sure to do under the beds. Then she polished all of the candlesticks in the house, and waxed the floors, then scrubbed her other dress and nightdress, and hung then on the rafters to dry. Then there was just the windows and the fireplace, and she always did them in a moment. A final sweep, and the tower was spotless.

Then Rapunzel read a book, or painted the walls. After she was tired of that, she would do her morning's guitar practice on her mother's old guitar that was always terribly out of tune, not matter how many times she tuned it. It was an old, broken instrument, but it was better than nothing.

Then she worked on her knitting project. Her mother had given her a few crotcheting and knitting supplies for her fourteenth birthday. She had started a scarf two years ago, but it never seemed to grow any bigger. Perhaps that was because of the countless times she had made a mistake and had had to pick out the last ten rows – but it gave her hands something to do. She enjoyed the sound of needle against needle.

Then there was lunch. She always tried to make something interesting for the meal. The days she had plain sandwhiches were the days when she was busy on a new painting project. Then Rapunzel did the dishes, and got out the two puzzles and chess set for a bit of relaxing logic. She would play chess against Pascal, who was an expert. Then she would absentmindedly do her puzzles, that had been done so many times that she was no longer thinking about it.

After that, she would do craft – maybe paper-mache, or pottery, on her wheel that she had gotten for her fifteenth birthday. She had made countless jars and pots, that were all scattered around the tower, filled with paper-mache flowers and painted in bright patterns.

Then Rapunzel would dance. Rapunzel loved to dance. It was hard – her hair was always getting in the way – but she tried her best, and practiced every day. She danced to songs that she sung, and the beat of Pascal's front feet clapping together. But as much as she loved it, there was only so much she could do before she grew tired, and her hair grew tangled.

So she sat on the rafters, and with her old silver brush that she had been given when she was six, she brushed her hair. It was all knotty, and though it never got dirty, she hated brushing it. But it was a part of her that she must protect. If anyone took her hair, they might as well kill her. She knew that without her hair, she was but a plain, normal girl.

So she sat on the rafters, and brushed her hair.

When she was done, her fingers started itching to paint again.

So she would get out her paints, and search around the tower for a new section of unpainted wall. There was always somewhere that she had overlooked. Today she found the doorframe of her bedroom. She painted it a nice pink, with some little purple flowers going all the way around it. With the addition of some little green leaves, they were complete.

Soon the doorframe was complete. She stood back to admire it. Pascal climbed up the stairs to join her. They stood looking, and Rapunzel absentmindly patted her paint brush against her forehead. It was only when Pascal burst out laughing that she noticed, and joined him. Her forehead was now coloured a nice green. Still laughing, she went downstairs to wash off her brushes and her forehead, and put her paints away. It was time to start the dinner.

On Rapunzel's seventeenth birthday, she couldn't help wishing that her mother would take her to see the Floating Lights up close. Instead she was given a dart board, with ten red and black darts. Rapunzel practiced after breakfast, and found to her surprise that she was actually quite good.

That evening, after dinner – her favourite hazelnut soup – and after her mother had left, Rapunzel and Pascal sat on the windowsill and watched the Floating Lights lift lazily up, up into the sky.

She had watched the Floating Lights every single year that she could remember, and this year was the most spectacular of all. She felt like they were actually calling to her, willing her to come and join them.

"Next year," said Rapunzel to Pascal. "Next year I will ask mother to take me to see the Floating Lights up close."

Pascal snuggled up closer to her, and the two of them watched the lights float up, up into the sky.


End file.
